The Only Way
by NarglesInTheMistletoe
Summary: After a life of being idolized and adored, Harry finally gets what's been coming for a long time. Post war, oneshot.


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**The Only Way**

Harry merrily marched through the undergrowth of the thin pines. The main path the he had strayed from was out of sight, despite the fact that he had only entered the forest minutes before; the thin trees were spaced just that close together.

Despite the shielding plantation, the leaves atop the brittle tree trunks were thin, and waved in the pleasant breeze, causing green-tinged sunlight to dance on his shoulders.

His whistling stopped as he stumbled over a precarious plant root. He straightened up, straightening his glasses and looking around wearily. Should he turn back?

These woods were quite well known, abundant with small and pleasant animals. The locals knew them well, as there was a small stream on the other side of the woods from the town, and it was a popular place to go for picnics. However, the woods were a nature reserve, and so you weren't supposed to enter except on nature walks, and so people usually accessed the picnic grounds from the road, which curved around the wood. Therefore, Harry didn't know them all too well.

But according to Angelina, who lived in the town with George and the kids, there was a magically concealed hut in the center of the woods, where a little family get-together was taking place.

He hadn't really discussed it with anyone, as Angelina had written to him out of the blue earlier that day saying they were all to meet at the hut, and he knew better than to dare defy Angelina. He had been at work, and so he assumed Ginny and the kids would be meeting him there. But he couldn't help but notice what a peculiar place it was for a family reunion.

Finally, he let a sigh of relief that he hadn't realized he had been holding as he came across a hut.

He frowned. It was hardly a hut. It was a shack. A moldy, rotten, unstable shack.

He withdrew his wand and hesitantly headed towards it.

He kicked the door open and, nonverbally igniting his wand tip, entered the hut with his wand raised high.

He lowered his wand as four other wand tips joined his, lighting the faces of Fleur, Audrey, Angelina and Hermione.

'Oh, hello,' said Harry, smiling broadly at them all. 'How have you all been?'

'Lower your wand, Harry,' said Audrey monotonously, staring unblinkingly at him. 'You won't need it now. We won't hurt you.'

Following Audrey's wishes, he tucked it back in his pocket and began rambling about his day. 'We all had a big scare about some shipment of cursed fire crackers coming in. Did Ron tell you about that, Hermione-'

'Ron was out when I left.' Breathed Hermione. 'We haven't spoken since we left for work.'

'Oh, right…' said Harry, frowning at the empty gaze she was focusing on him. 'Then where is he? Is he picking up the kids?'

'They'll be here soon, Harry. They'll all be here soon.' Assured Angelina sternly.

Fleur took her graceful walk to the hanging door of the shack, and shut it, cutting out a considerable amount of light. 'Will we shut ze door until they arrive, do you zink, 'arry?' said Fleur pointedly.

'Er- yeah, I guess.'

'Good.' Said Hermione. She gave him a smile without opening her mouth. 'We have something to discuss with you, Harry.'

'We all do.' Agreed Audrey.

Angelina gave a sad smile. 'It's about the sweaters.'

Harry frowned. 'What sweaters?'

'You know very well what sweaters.' Snapped Fleur impatiently.

'No, no, I really don't.' insisted Harry sincerely. 'Are you okay?'

The women were withdrawing their wands, and Hermione was creeping towards him. He saw the flick of her wand and felt his own slip from his pocket and fly to Hermione's waiting fingers.

'Hey, give that back!' cried Harry indignantly.

He moved towards Hermione, but Audrey blocked his way, her wand raised. 'The sweaters we speak of… are handcrafted by a one, Molly Weasley.'

'Ergh… what about them?' he shifted uncomfortably. To be honest, he had his hideous sweater on underneath his Auror cloak. It may make his eyes hurt to look at, but it had been a chilly morning and he hadn't wanted to be lectured by Ginny when he undoubtedly secured a cold.

Perhaps his sisters-in-law were concerned about his fashion sense, and were going to give him a makeover. He knew he had better explain himself. 'I mean, come on! It was cold. I know it's pretty tactless, but my other jumpers were in the wash and-'

'We don't mean it like that.' Cooed Angelina.

'You may have noticed, Harry,' began Audrey placidly, 'that after all these years of being married into the Weasley family, you are the only one of us to receive a sweater each Christmas.'

Harry bit his lip, trying to recall each Christmas. It indeed was true, but he didn't see what the women were getting at. Did they think he was defacing the Weasley fashion sense? Well, it's not like he enjoyed the sweaters. He'd much rather receive a bottle of fancy mead like all the others couples got, but instead Ginny would receive some worthless knickknack and he would get a sweater, just like each of Molly's children and Grandchildren.

'Why do think it is, Harry?' pressed on Angelina. 'Why do you think you're the only one who gets a sweater?'

'Er, perhaps she ran out of wool-'

Fleur let out a cruel, cold laugh. 'Ran out of wool _everee_ year I've been marreed to Billie? Yeah, right!'

'We'll tell you why it is, Harry,' continued Angelina, her hands curling into fists. 'It's because you get all the attention. She obviously likes you more.'

Harry blushed modestly, and waved away the compliment with his hand. 'Oh come on guys, you're making me blush!'

'Think about it, Harry,' said Hermione coldly. 'She's known Angelina longest. Fleur's been in the family longest. She's known us for the same amount of time, but I didn't break her daughter's heart. And Audrey gave her that recipe for fig pudding. Technically we should all be equal.'

'Why doesn't she appreciate my recipes!' wailed Audrey, burying her face in her hands. 'Why?! Why?! Why?!'

'Zer, zer, we know 'ow you feel.' Said Fleur, patting her on the back.

Hermione put a comforting arm around Audrey, and Angelina took Hermione's place, confronting Harry.

'She has no reason to make only _you_ a sweater. We're all equal, if not superior, to you. The only reason is that you steal the attention.' Angelina's dark eyes fixed Harry with a venomous glare.

'Look, come on, it's just a sweater!' cried Harry. Could they really be serious?

'To _you_ maybe,' hissed Fleur.

'Which is why _we_ should be the ones receiving them.' Concluded Hermione. 'We would all appreciate the gift of a motherly sweater.'

'If you want them so much, just have mine! God knows I have enough!' It was true. He had been accumulating the ugly things for twenty-nine years.

Angelina laughed bitterly. 'Oh but it's not the same. No, no, no, no. We need them made for us. And only us.'

'Which is why we have to do this Harry,' said Hermione evenly, breaking away from Audrey. She had her wand withdrawn once more.

Harry gulped. 'Do what?'

'This.' Said Audrey, and she launched herself at the terrified man, sinking her teeth ravenously into his flesh, ripping through the soft sweater. 'Mmmm,' she growled, gnawing on his bone, 'You taste like wool.'

'I'm sorry, Harry.' Sighed Hermione. 'But it's the only way.'

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'It's a shame Harry couldn't be with us for Christmas,' sighed Molly, as she placed the alluring lamb leg in the center of the packed kitchen table.

'Oh, I don't know, Molly,' said Angelina slyly, 'He may be closer than we think. By the way, you're welcome for the leg of lamb. We just found it lying around and thought it would make a tasty Christmas lunch.

'His letter was so odd.' said Ginny sadly, her chocolate-brown eyes downcast. 'I didn't even _know_ he had a passion for whale riding. Not to mention did I know that the best place to go for whale watching was in a part of the Himalayas that owls can't deliver to and isn't connected to the Floo network.'

'Yes, how odd,' snapped Audrey, giving Fleur a disdainful look.

Fleur averted her eyes. She had been never good at making up excuses.

'I still think he was assassinated,' said James casually, helping himself to a heaping chunk of lamb.

'James!' snapped Ginny, as Lily's eyes swelled to the size of saucers.

'That reminds me, Jamie,' said Molly, as the rest of the family began to eat. 'I have something for you.

She bustled from the room, and returned with a large, scarlet sweater. She unfolded it, and it rolled out, revealing a hideous V-neck and an ugly woolen snitch sewed into the front. 'This was for your Dad, but seeming owls can't reach him I thought you could have it. It has a snitch on it this year!'

James extended a hesitant arm and retrieved the sweater, and after a threatening look room his mother slipped it on.

'Oh gee, Gran, this is lovely,' said James distastefully, looking down at the sweater in all its ugliness.

The other cousins hid their giggles behind their hands, as did the Arthur and his kids.

However, Hermione, Fleur, Angelina and Audrey shared mortified and outraged looks with each other.

'You know, James,' said Hermione casually, once most of the family had finished eating and cleared the room, 'We know a lovely little hut for a family get-together.'

James looked up at his four Aunts with a frown, and Audrey licked her lips longingly.

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**Okay, this is really stupid, and I failed at humour. But reviews would still be adored.**

**Thanks for reading! x**


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